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I throw that at him like an accusation, because it’s his fault that I’m going on this stupid errand. This is my third time tagging along with Jasper for a supply run, and each adventure has been worse than the last. Not because of Jasper, surprisingly—because Zigor Zakharov really is a fucking moron. His only genius seems to be finding new and creative ways to annoy us.
He brings his two favorite goons along with him everywhere he goes. Jasper and I call them the Bookends, because they look exactly alike, and they flank Zigor like he’s the president, instead of a two-bit gangster so incompetent that his father only uses him for babysitting.
I’d much rather be at the lab with Hakim. I’m almost finished the third formulation, the one for concerts.
When I head down to the kitchen, I tell Hakim, “Don’t work on the new pill without me.”
“I can’t work on shit,” he says. “We’re out of supplies.”
“I know—Jasper and I are picking up a double order today.”
We’ve been continually increasing our orders from Lev Zakharov, but it’s not even close to enough to keep up with demand. Now that we’re selling in Veniamin’s nightclubs, we’ve had to scramble to keep up with production. We’ve got Andrei pressing pills and Vlad delivering orders to our dealers. Adrik’s making agreements to supply my sex drugEliksirto all the brothels.
Chief is probably working hardest of all—he’s got to handle the money and balance the books, an increasingly impossible feat. Adrik is intent on expanding as quickly as possible. We’re operating on miniscule margins, taking all the cash we make and rolling it into bigger and bigger purchases of raw materials.
Adrik and I argued last night. I told him we should have a ninety-day cash reserve. He said we didn’t need it.
“We’re vulnerable,” I told him. “If something goes wrong—”
“Nothing’s going to go wrong.”
“If we took twenty percent of the profits—”
“We can’t. Business is booming. We have to grab all the market share we can before someone figures out how to make their own version of the product.”
I scoffed. “They’ll fuck it up. And by the time they copyMolniya,I’ll already have made five more formulas.”
“If doesn’t matter if their drugs aren’t as good—I’m already seeing counterfeits popping up. Not everyone is as discerning as you. They’ll buy whatever’s cheapest and easiest.”
I glared at him, arms folded. “You said we’d make decisions together.”
“We do. All the time.”
“Unless you disagree with me.”
“When two people disagree, you still have to make a choice.”
“And it’s always your choice.”
“I’ve let you do whatever you wanted with the drugs,” he snapped at me.
“Letme?”
“The supply chain is my business.”
“All of it isourbusiness!”
“There’s still division of labor!”
“I’m not talking about labor! I’m talking about organization and planning—”
“When we’re in a better position, we’ll have a reserve. We’ll have so much money rolling in you can fill a vault with cash and swim around in it like Mak Dak.”
“We can’t wait for that!” I cried. And then, “Wait, what did you just say?”
“I said we’ll do it when we’re in a better position.”
“No … the part about swimming around in the vault.”
